


Accidents

by Summer_rain99



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: F/F, Fluff and Smut, No Angst, daddy kink I guess? doesn't play a role really, i wrote half of this in the middle of the night, this is kinda smutty but not really explicit, this is my first time publishing anything if it's bad please tell meee, timeframe what timeframe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-21 06:36:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17038613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Summer_rain99/pseuds/Summer_rain99
Summary: The first time Becky and Charlotte sleep together, it’s an accident. The second time they sleep together, it’s definitely not an accident.





	Accidents

The first time Becky and Charlotte sleep together, it’s an accident. They’re both drunk, giggling incessantly as they make their way up to their hotel room. Neither one knows why they’re laughing, but several glasses of champagne and some good company can make anything hilarious. They try not to giggle too loudly as they stumble out of the elevator and into the hall of the floor that their room is on. Charlotte fails miserably however, when it takes Becky five tries to open the door. She’s still laughing uproariously as they fall over the threshold. There’s no doubt in her mind that someone will bitch at her about it in the morning, but right now she doesn’t care.  
It happens so fast once they’re inside that neither has the chance to really process what’s happening; one minute they’re laughing drunkenly, and the next they’re kissing, hot and heavy. Their hands tear at each other’s clothes then tangle in each other’s hair as the kiss deepens. Charlotte moans first, when Becky presses her leg between her thighs. Neither woman is in the mood to really think about what all this might mean. For now, they’re both content with the flurry of hands and lips and bare skin pressing on bare skin. It’s been too long for them both, Charlotte thinks, and she let’s Becky take control for the night.  
It’s unholy, the way her name falls from Becky’s lips as she pulls her in. At this point, even if Charlotte wanted to stop this (she didn’t), she wouldn’t be able to. Becky Lynch is more intoxicating than anything she’s had to drink that night, and she can’t get enough of her breathy moans and open mouthed kisses.  
Charlotte doesn’t pretend to know what any of this means, or how they got in this situation. All Charlotte knows is that Becky is perfect - her lips, her hands, her hair and god those eyes, fixed on her in an almost predatory stare. Becky’s whole goddamn body is a blessing, Charlotte learns that night.  
The only word to describe Becky in bed is skilled. It’s like she can tell exactly what Charlotte needs and exactly when she needs it. She herself is less experienced, but she muddles through, and Becky’s reaction suggests she’s done a good job. She swears she’ll never forget the heavenly sound her best friend makes as she comes undone. They go a few rounds until they can’t anymore, and collapse side by side in exhaustion. Becky looks radiant to Charlotte, all sweaty and naked like that with strands of orange hair plastered to her temples, but she keeps that thought to herself.  
When she wakes up, she’s alone in her bed. Her head pounds and her throat screams for water as she rubs her eyes. The sun that’s shining through the window makes her groan in pain. It takes a moment for the memories of the previous night to come back to her in her sleepy state, but when they do, she blushes darker than she’s ever blushed before. Charlotte’s body catches up then, a deep ache in her thighs providing all the proof she needs that she hadn’t been dreaming. That, and the fact that she’s naked.  
It’s in Charlotte’s nature to panic the minute she remembers that she’s now alone in bed, her red-haired lover nowhere to be found. Her mind fills with fear at the thought that she might’ve lost her best friend to a drunken mistake. It takes her a full five minutes of panicking before realising there’s a note on the nightstand, accompanied by a glass of water and two pain pills. Gone to get breakfast, be back soon - Becks x.  
It’s awkward for all of five minutes when Becky gets back, breakfast and coffee in hand. An awkward good morning makes way for an even more awkward and uncomfortable silence, but then Becky cracks some awful joke and it’s like the whole thing is instantly forgotten, despite the marks that linger on their skin.

\---

The second time they sleep together, it’s definitely not an accident. They’re fighting, but Charlotte can’t remember about what anymore. All she knows is that she’s angry, and so is Becky, so their kiss is harsh and bruising. It’s a fight for dominance, with hair pulling and pushing each other into the wall. Charlotte doesn’t plan on giving in this time, not like the first time. She wants Becky to feel her anger; she translates it in the scratch of her nails and the nips of her teeth. But Becky isn’t submissive, isn’t giving in, fighting back with every ounce of fire she has. Charlotte is far from surprised.  
The kind of ferocity her best friend brings to the table is something she’s only seen at the gym or in the ring, never in everyday life. But, Charlotte supposes, this isn’t exactly normal life for them, even if it hasn’t been that long since the first time. She has to admit that she loves Becky turning that ferocity on her, almost as much as she adores fighting back.  
She can tell her unwillingness to submit is irritating Becky, who’s so used to her conquests falling at her feet in submission. Charlotte smirks into the kiss. It only makes the whole thing that much sweeter, winding Becky up like this. A part of her wants to let Becky take over, as she did that night, but if she’s honest, she gets a kick out of being difficult. As if she can tell what her lover is thinking, the smaller woman doubles her assaults, almost tearing Charlotte’s clothes in her desperation to get them off.  
“Charlie,” Becky growls out, accent thick as she throws Charlotte to the bed. Charlotte loves Becky’s voice - she feels her arousal growing and knows her underwear is ruined. That night, they learn a lot about what makes the other tick; Becky isn’t surprised that Charlotte has somewhat of a daddy kink, but Charlotte is even less surprised that Becky thrives on praise. If she’s honest though, Becky’s the only reason she has that kink. She doesn’t tell her that though - her ego hardly needs the boost. This night together is even better than their last.  
Becky isn’t gone when she wakes up this time. In fact, she’s quite the opposite of gone, curled up around Charlotte with her arm hooked around her waist. Their legs are tangled together under the sheets. She looks peaceful in her sleep, all the hard edges of her face from the previous night smoothed out. Charlotte knows instinctively that whatever fight they’d been having is forgiven as she gently rubs her thumb over Becky’s lip. Her grip on her lover tightens slightly as she curls more into her side. This, Charlotte thinks, she could get used to.

\---

The third time, it’s over almost before it begins. Charlotte’s match is good that night, she knows, but she’s not expecting it to have the effect it does on Becky. The predatory look Becky gives her when they’re in the locker room gives away the game though, and neither of them can change fast enough. They only make it halfway back to the hotel before Becky demands through gritted teeth that Charlotte pull over. Within seconds they’re both in the backseat of the rental, Becky’s hands pulling at Charlotte’s waistband. Her desperation and intensity blow Charlotte out of the water; no one has ever looked at her with the reverence and hunger that Becky does now. When Becky murmurs between kisses that she’s beautiful, Charlotte actually believes her.  
She’s too tired to fight for dominance as she lets Becky work her way down her body. Her body responds almost violently to Becky’s touch, and she gasps when Becky sinks her teeth into the soft flesh of her inner thigh. When Becky murmurs something about loving her thighs into her skin, Charlotte suspects it’s that that set her off while watching her fight. She makes a mental note to play that to her advantage, before she cries out as her lover finally touches her the way she wants. It only takes a few minutes for Charlotte to come undone with Becky’s head between her thighs. Becky takes the wheel for the rest of the drive with a permanent smirk on her lips; Charlotte sits in the passenger seat, still dazed from the Irish woman’s ministrations.  
After that, sleeping together becomes a much more regular occurrence. 

\---

Charlotte has lost count of how many times they’ve been together now. This is the third morning in a row she’s woken up with her best friend curled around her, naked and soft in the early morning sunlight. Becky is vulnerable like this, she knows, and a fierce protectiveness rises in her. She’d give this woman the whole world if she could. Before she can change her mind, she presses a soft kiss to the other woman’s hair.  
It’s been a week now, or maybe two, since Charlotte came to the alarming realisation that she is in love with Becky Lynch, her best friend. She’s always loved her, of course, but this is different. She’s in love with Becky now, in love with her silly jokes and puns, her carefree nature, her ferocity in the bedroom. And Charlotte knows she can’t let this continue, that the longer this weird best friends with benefits situation carries on the deeper she falls, but she can never say no when Becky looks at her the way she does.  
She loves how Becky makes her feel, like she’s some kind of goddess. Charlotte has never considered herself beautiful; to her, her reflection is too big, too manly, never feminine enough. She knows she’s not the only one that thinks it either. But Becky, well, she makes all of that fall away. When they’re together in bed, she looks at Charlotte like she’s the sun, and the way she worships Charlotte’s body makes her feel sexier than she ever has. She never tires of making Becky wild with low cut shirts and tight jeans or leggings. She loves that Becky is dominant in bed, taking care of her and treating her like a damn princess, and she loves when the dominance falls away to vulnerability when they’re done. Most of all though, she loves how a single touch or look from her best friend makes her feel at home, makes her feel so goddamn safe. The last thing Charlotte wants is to give up their nights together and their morning-afters.  
Becky stirs a little as the cogs in Charlotte’s brain continue to turn. She looks at her once more, observing her though a mass of blonde curls and fiery orange waves, committing the sight to her memory. Noticing that the other woman is still asleep, she takes the opportunity to voice the feeling pressing at her chest, knowing she’ll explode if she doesn’t let it out. She can’t tell Becky, not for real, because she’d rather have their friendship than risk everything if Becky doesn’t love her back. So instead, she gazes down at a sleeping Becky as she speaks her truth.  
“I love you, Rebecca.” Relief and a feeling of soft tenderness flow over her as she breathes out her confession into empty air, Becky’s full name smooth like velvet on her tongue. It’s in the quiet of the next moment, the only sounds being her best friend’s soft breathing and the erratic slamming of her own heart against her chest, that she realises she’s made the biggest mistake of her life; Becky’s beautiful brown eyes are wide open, and looking right at her. Her own eyes go wide with panic, and immediately she struggles to extract herself from their embrace. “God, fuck, Becky, I’m so so sorry, I didn’t mean to make things weird I swear. Please don’t hate me, I’m so sorry. We can forget all about this.” Her words tumble over each other as they spill from her mouth, tears stinging at her eyes. She hates herself in that moment more than she ever has; she’s just ruined everything good in her life because she couldn’t just keep her damn mouth shut.  
In her desperation to fix the damage she has caused, it takes her a moment to realise that Becky is still holding on to her waist, tighter now, holding her in place. Her tear-filled eyes find Becky’s, and instead of disgusted, they’re soft and warm.  
“Ashley.” Her real name slips from Becky’s lips, her voice rough with sleep but soft in tone, and Charlotte stills. Becky never uses her real name in bed; Charlotte has always thought it’s Becky’s way of keeping their sex life separate from their friendship, and she’s never minded. Now though, she’s saying her name like it’s a blessing, and it’s all Charlotte can do not to sob. The expression on her best friend’s face is gentle, and she’s offering her a small smile. Charlotte is so goddamn confused.  
“I’m sorry,” she whispers back, a single tear falling from her eye. Suffice to say she’s more than shocked when Becky reaches up to thumb it away, her eyes impossibly soft. Her breathing is still erratic and her heart hasn’t stopped racing, because Becky’s doing it again, looking at her like she’s the sun and the moon and the whole damn sky. And Charlotte is so scared, because she wants Becky to look at her like that forever, but she’s just ruined everything. Hasn’t she?  
“Don’t be sorry, lass,” comes Becky’s gentle reply. Her soft smile takes on an almost shy edge as Charlotte watches, still waiting for the inevitability of being kicked to the curb. She can’t believe it when her best friend pulls her in slowly, as if not to startle her, to press a sweet, tender kiss to her lips. It’s short-lived, but it makes Charlotte gasp; it’s so loving, so affectionate and she thinks that maybe, just maybe, things might be okay. Becky doesn’t pull away, instead opting to rest her forehead on Charlotte’s, brushing her nose against her lover’s before breaking into a wide smile. “In fact, be the opposite of sorry. I’m so glad you said that, love.” Becky chuckles as Charlotte’s brow furrows gently, evidence of her perplexion clear on her face. She kisses her again. “I love you too, Ash.” The vulnerability shines in her eyes once again and this time, it’s Charlotte that kisses Becky.  
Charlotte is blown away. This is so not how she imagined her morning would go, but she’s over the damn moon. Becky Lynch loves her. She actually loves her back. Charlotte had never even dared to dream about this outcome. Becky is kissing her, over and over and between each kiss there’s an I love you. She’s so overwhelmed, so in love that she can’t stop the tears slipping from her eyes. But Becky just slips her fingers through Charlotte’s and then they’re laughing, just like they were when this all started. This time though, they’re drunk off of love, not champagne. They stay like that for as long as they can, kissing and whispering sweet nothings to each other before they have to get moving. And Charlotte doesn’t know where things will go from there, how things are going to work between them. But it’s all okay, because for now at least, all that matters is that they love one another. They’ll figure it out.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I hope you enjoyed that word vomit of a fit you just read! I'm new to wrestling (shout out to my girlfriend), and I only really got involved for Charlynch, hence the fic! Any and all feedback is appreciated! :)


End file.
